The Warrior Returns - Anteros 04 by Allan Cole Read Free Book Online

have chosen to support. I cannot openly side with you, although I will do what I can. There are those who have influence among my heavenly cousins who do not favor the Anteros.
    "And I must warn you most severely not to reveal a word about my appearance this day, or what I have said. Your brother, especially, must not be told. His strength must be saved for another time—if and when the final fight comes.
    "So it is up to you, Rali, to see your people through this crisis."
    Her image started to fade.
    "Is that all you can tell me, Goddess?" I cried. "Please. Reveal all you can safely say. I w ill tell no one." The goddess’s image firmed.
    "Your journey will be fraught with difficulty," she said "Some may die. Some may flee. Whether you are successful or not depends on you, Rali. Not the gods.
    "And I will tell you one thing more ...
    "Three ships will mark your fortunes. Three ships will carry your fate. Three ships a-sailing ... one of silver, one of copper, and one of gold."
    Her image vanished and I collapsed unconscious to the floor.
    I'd fully recovered by the time we were to depart. When Amalric came to see me off, I was able to display nothing but good cheer. I'd even begun to wonder if the vision had been the result of the sour wine I'd stopped to drink at a tavern near the settlement
    When I thought on it, the whole thing seemed so unlikely, so farfetched.
    Amalric embraced me. "May the trade winds always be at your back, sister dear," he said.
    I kissed him, then drew away to study him closer. In that moment he looked like the solemn little boy I'd once known and left behind when I'd gone marching off to war.
    So I asked of him then what I'd begged from him more than once in those long ago days.
    "Smile for me, little brother," I said. "One smile to carry in my heart while I'm gone."
    And Amalric blessed me with his brightest, sweetest smile.
    I looked at his face, memorizing it. I think he did the same
    with me. In his eyes I saw a question begin to grow. And that question was—would we ever see each other again?
    Ah, by the gods, if I'd known the answer, I'd have kissed him once more.
    before my time and my brother's time our world was a small dark place surrounded by fearful things. We were like mice in a barn stall burrow, poking our heads out when hunger drove us to it, daring the mighty owl in the rafters as we scampered to feed on animal droppings.
    Amalric's voyages of discovery opened the East as far as the distant peaks of Tyrenia which overlook the barren lands where the demons and the Old Ones had battled for eons. My expedition against the last Archon of Lycanth unveiled the mysterious West—thousands of leagues beyond the fiery reefs that had once marked the end of the known world.
    We'd always traded with the people in the hot regions of the North and had a good idea what they looked like. Although few had personally visited the North, there were detailed maps showing that savage area with reasonable accuracy.
    My father, Paphos Anteros, had explored the ice lands of the South in his youth, but he'd been too overwhelmed by the work of expanding our family fortune to exploit his few discoveries. He was an old-school gentleman with courtly manners and a kind and gentle air that masked his shrewd judgment. He was never one to spare his praise, especially for me. I'd perform some small task for him, such as fetching his favorite bowl—cracked and stained with age—so he could
    pour a little honeyed wine in it and dip his bread for a late night snack. When I'd set the bowl down carefully on his study table, he'd hug me and thank me as if I'd crossed mountains and wild seas to do him this favor.
    "Thank you, daughter," he'd say. "And to those thanks add ten thousand more."
    You see what I mean? Not one thank-you would suffice. Only ten thousand and one would do.
    Although my mother had the greater influence on me—and it was through her that I inherited my magical ability—my father stirred my more